The Investment
by XxIrisxX
Summary: When darkness threatens to rise, Thranduil agrees to an alliance with Thorin. But Thorin won't just take his word for it and Thranduil is desperate enough to agree to the conditions of an investment. Political marriage, Same-sex marriage, Thorin/Thranduil (Rating upped to 'M')
1. Chapter 1

**The Investment**

**Summary:** When darkness threatens to rise, Thranduil agrees to an alliance with Thorin. But Thorin won't just take his word and Thranduil is desperate enough to agree to the conditions of an investment.

**Disclaimer:** The Hobbit belongs to J.R.R Tolkien and the movies by Peter Jackson. I am only borrowing the characters for a bit.

**Warning:** Same-sex marriage, political marriage, rated for later chapters.

**AN:** My very first 'Hobbit' fic! This takes place after Thorin has become king and the events set off after he was captured yet again by the woodelves. AU-ish, you could say. This idea literally just came to me and I had to write it down. I don't know what this will turn into yet, though I have a very bleak outline. If you guys have any ideas, do pitch them in! I'll really appreciate them. :)

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**Chapter 1**

As he was escorted to the royal hall, Thorin Oakenshield couldn't help but wonder what slight possibility of leverage he'd hope to gain from his meeting with the elven king.

Not much was said to him while he was being scrutinised by the guards. Not that they had any reason to. Not after they had captured him loitering in their home mysteriously...and not because he was 'lost and starving' as the last time.

"I'm not answerable to anyone." He mentioned proudly, "But how much is _he _curious is what's there to be seen."

The message was conveyed.

A response too was soon received.

The elven king wanted to see him, they said. This conveyed not nearly enough hint for Thorin to actually have his own hopes of leveraging over said king.

All he could gather was that Thranduil wanted something. Something so important that was worth some kind of negotiation.

And so he was taken to him.

Being shoved towards the abomination after climbing up a ridiculous large flight of stairs made Thorin to analyse every possible sense of the word 'haughty'. Not that he had much incentive or situation to roll his eyes at Elven elaborations but still...it was a thought and a very valid one.

Increased to manifolds by the sight of the equally ridiculous antlered throne that now came in unobstructed line of view.

Along with the horrifyingly repulsive sight of the very king himself sitting _on _the throne, one leg perched on another, chin casually resting upon the back of one while the tall and slender figure dismissively looked down.

The guards who were holding the shorter man now released him, taking steps back as the king waved an elegant hand at them.

_Antics._

Thorin waited, trying not to roll his eyes while his captor seemed to just stare at him. Apart from the fact that it was absolutely awkward and very disturbing he decided to indulge the other. He wouldn't risk of putting words in Thranduil's mouth without hearing what he'd have to say. He learned it the last time he—along with his company—were subjected to the not-so-hospitable dungeon and now being King under the mountain (albeit new), he knew better.

"Thorin Oakenshield." Thranduil spoke finally, "Can't say I'm least bit surprised, having to see you again under such a circumstance."

_Damnation be to him, _Thorin thought. How on earth could that infuriatingly silky voice be so playful and so obnoxious at the same time?

"Although I'm more interested to know what need you could have in my woods, I think we can keep it aside for now." Thranduil spoke, drawing closer to the dwarf as a slow smile danced across his lips.

"And what could be so important that even _Thranduil _is willing to overlook my intrusion?" He jested back and snorted in amusement when he noticed the other king's smile faltering by a bit.

However if one thing the elf had that was insignificantly admirable was his control on every single fibre of his muscles.

Thranduil let the smirk waltz back on his lips as he spoke, beginning to circle the other.

"Nothing that I don't intend to revoke priority over, I assure you that."

Thorin snorted again but Thranduil ignored it.

"I fear great evil rising. I fear _Sauron _rising."

The elven king paused coming right in front of the other, hoping to gain Thorin's undiverted attention. And that, he did. Thorin looked up at the elf, eyes focused.

He was listening.

"How can you be sure of that?"

"I've been sure of it ever since Smaug had awoken from deep under the mountains. Sauron too awakens. Maybe not now, may be not for decades but his evil presence is imminent."

Thorin sighed deeply. As much as he loathed Thranduil and his kin, he had no reason to believe that all of what had been said was made up. Logically speaking, the darkness of Mirkwood, the trolls coming downhill, the increase of orcs...all had ominous indications and Thorin was very much aware of that.

"So what are you proposing?" He asked, not missing the diplomatic look in his counterpart's eyes.

"That you and I form an alliance." The other replied, waiting for Thorin's opinion. When none came, he elaborated, "Whatever security we can provide individually to our own realms, we can double that with both our realms combined. Not only our artillery would vary in type but also the skills in handling them and not to mention, the increase in number is certainly an advantage."

Thorin seemed to contemplate it for a moment. Thranduil seemed sincere. Almost believable...but...

"What guarantee do I have that you haven't already formed an alliance with some other party and that you won't blindside me? Do I have _just_ your word? What was it? Ah yes, _from one king to another?_"

It was Thranduil's turn to frown. It was then that Thorin Oakenshield was every bit satisfied when the other's smugness wore off. After all, what did he expect? That Thorin would believe him blindly? Especially after the blasted elf turned his back on them when they needed him the most? Especially after he had come to aid when _Bard's _town was in danger?

He'd have to do better than that!

"So what do _you _propose?" The taller one said and it was just the opportunity that Thorin had been waiting for. It wasn't like he had been pondering it over for a long time. If anything, it was just the opposite. However, spontaneity was his forte and the idea that came to him in the heat of the moment was anything but _brash_.

Most importantly, it provided _leverage._

Thorin smirked while calculatingly focusing his gaze at the other.

"An investment."

Thranduil now was confused. His frown deepened and it was clear that Thorin had the entire weight.

"Of what?"

"Not what." Ah, it seemed so right. So satisfying! Maybe not equivalent to the unfairness that had been done to him all that time back but on Thranduil, it would be just as much unjust.

The elven king's eyes were narrowed at that. He was intuitive enough to know that something was going to be very, _very _wrong. And that whatever influence he thought he had over the dwarf was swiftly wavering.

"Then _who?_"

Thorin's smirk deepened. He could see the internal dilemma on the much controlled elven king's face. Whether he'd regret it later or not was not of importance at that point. The safety of his people was...as was a much deserved revenge.

A thickening silence stretched between the two as one tried to keep his calm and another tried to contain his excitement. When Thorin was sure that Thranduil completely preferred the safety of his realm and that he was scared and desperate _enough_, he finally mentioned his intent, tasting victory as the word rolled out of his mouth.

"You."

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**AN:** So what do you think? Should I continue? Please review. : )


	2. Chapter 2

**The Investment**

**Disclaimer: **The Hobbit belongs to J.R.R Tolkien and Peter Jackson owns the movies. I make no profit off them.

**Warning: **Just one phrase of Thorin. Because...it's Thorin!

**AN: **I'm back! Let me take a moment to thank everyone who has faved/alereted/reviewed. It made me really happy and encouraged me to move forward with the plot. To those whom I couldn't reply using the site—

**Anon, Dina**- Thank you so much! I'm really glad you liked it.

Thanks all of you! :D

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**Chapter 2**

If in that very morning, somebody told Thranduil that he'd be facing a dwarf and negotiating alliances for the sake of keeping peace and said dwarf asking a payment of nothing but he _himself,_ Thranduil would've laughed.

Considering the present situation, Thranduil was in no laughing mood and said dwarf was in no mood to make fun jokes.

Instead he stood wide eyed, his mouth hanging ajar purely in shock.

He still couldn't believe it. All that crossed his mind was— did he hear the other correctly?

"What did you say?" He asked in complete bewilderment and didn't miss the other's smirk extending even more taking in his surprise. "You want me to invest _myself_? Do you think I'd stoop so low?"

"Only if you're desperate enough." Thorin replied tactfully, his smugness utterly disgusting the elven king. "And you _are _desperate."

At this, Thranduil's eyes flashed in pure rage. He breathed deeply, trying his best not to lash out at the insolent dwarf. How dare he be treated like that in his own realm? What did they think he was? A commodity to be bartered off? A slave to be handed over with terms and conditions?

He closed his hands in fists and squeezed them tightly. He said nothing but words weren't needed to express the fury that he felt. His trembling body, rigid posture and flaring nostrils were more than enough to indicate so.

However, he soon closed his eyes and exhaled deeply. He exhaled a few more times before finally he felt his voice back in his throat. "This marriage yields my kingdom under your sole control."

"_This _marriage yields greater amount of protection for _both_ kingdoms."

Thranduil clenched his jaws tightly. Thorin was enjoying this and did no courtesy of keeping the playfulness out of his voice. Worse, he _knew _how imminent the threat was and he _knew _how Thranduil had limited options.

Still...those limited options— no matter how despondent they were— seemed far better than being a puppet of a foolish, haughty dwarf.

After a sick pause had passed, he replied finally in a strained and anger laced voice, "I shall not yield under such _preposterous_ agreement."

Out of the corner of his eyes, he saw Thorin shrinking back his own smirk. He could _feel _Thorin's glare upon him as he turned his back on the other, raising his chin up elegantly while delivering his final impetus.

"Thorin Oakenshield, I will _not_ marry you."

He glanced back at the other over his shoulders and saw the dwarf king grimacing dangerously. He looked like he was expecting a little more than those very clear and precise words but Thranduil could care less. He walked calmly towards his throne and glided back on it, perching one leg on top of another.

Thorin continued glaring at the elf. When he was met with nothing but silence and an ignorant closing of eyes, he turned his back and left.

* * *

Once outside Thranduil's underground _bunker, _Thorin asked with a snark to one of the guards, "No supplies then?"

His question went unanswered, which was least surprising. When the two guards shifted closer to each other completely blocking the door, Thorin understood that his welcome was overspent and now it was his best interest to leave.

_At least the tree shaggers didn't keep Minty._

However all was not a total loss for him. Thankfully, be it shock or spite or simply a case of overlooking, Thranduil failed to ask why _he _had been here in the first place. He was disturbed enough to come straight to his point. Of course the matter would cross the elf's mind sooner or later but for now, Thorin had one up against him.

Not only would that keep the elf's mind busy for a while (once he regained it), it would fuel his curiosity and would further drive him to acknowledge Thorin's influence..._and _dominance.

It was all good business.

* * *

"The spiders have been gathering at the southern borders again. So far, about ten have been spotted. There will be many. The more we wait, more will it become difficult to drive them out."

Legolas gave the report, standing before the king. He was sent to patrol the southern borders by Thranduil with a small number of warriors. His purpose was to observe and then hatch a plan to weed out the root of the problem.

The king drummed his fingers on the arm of the throne while he listened intently to the prince. Legolas was right. There would be more and they'd gather soon. As long as they were out of Mirkwood, the elven king supposed that they had bought themselves a bit of time.

"Concentrating at the borders, you say?" He asked with a slight frown. "Are you absolute that none have breached in our realm?"

"Yet."

Thranduil closed his eyes. He had a very bad notion of what the spiders were attempting to do. It wasn't a petty motif of prey and proper like last time. It was more like they were barricading Mirkwood.

_Barricade and then close in._

"Ada," his thoughts were interrupted soon and he looked up at his son who had a steely determination about him.

"Ada, their number is small. We could get rid of them. If we do nothing, more will gather. Harder will it be." He saw Legolas shifting slightly when he didn't respond. "If we send a message that our home is not a place to feast, I doubt they'll invite more."

"I doubt that they won't."

Legolas seemed confused. Why wouldn't he be? Infestation was to be terminated at the very beginning—that was the solution and that was logical. So it was understandable that his son deemed it perplexing when he was asked to ignore any shred of logic by his much experienced father.

But what he needed to understand was that this wasn't a case of mere infestation. It was the beginning of something far worse.

"Ada, I could take them." He pleaded but Thranduil paid no heed.

"You will not."

"Ada!"

"You will _not_ Legolas! You will do nothing that involves anything brash!"

The prince persisted but Thranduil quickly cut him off. He began climbing down the stairs and as he did, he instructed the prince with orders that left no room for further argument. "Send word out to prepare defences along the border. Defences, patrols and I shall be reported to once in every three days about the state of our borders. No troop shall launch an attack without my orders. No one will act further without being informed by me and me alone. Is that clear?"

Legolas said nothing.

"Legolas is that _clear_?"

"Yes. Ada."

Legolas didn't seem too pleased with it but he knew better than to question his father's judgement. He nodded and stepped aside for his father to pass. He also seemed like wanting to say something else to the king. He hesitated and it showed on his face. However, since he said nothing, Thranduil didn't press the matter any further. He had more concerning matters to attend to.

_I need a reliable alliance. No, I first need a map of Middle Earth. Valar, I need a glass of _wine_!_

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**AN:** You heard him. Thranduil needs his wine! Please give him wine in the form of your reviews. :3

Thranduil: Or. Else.

Please review!


	3. Chapter 3

**The Investment**

**Disclaimer:** I still don't own them...as much as I'd love to. : (

**Warning:** Umm...not sure, a very tiny cuss word I guess.

**AN:** I know I'm making Thorin seem like a jerk but trust me guys. I love him! I love Thorin. The poor guy is just a little gruff! It's just that the plot demands it. I'm helpless. :'( Well no, not really but a happy and fluffy Thorin here would be so awkward and this fic wuld totally spiral out of control and you'd be left with a crazy author with her crazy rants. Uh...very much like this one. O.o Hm.

So, this chapter starts somewhat lightly. And after a whole paragraph, this is the only useful piece of info I've written. Hmmm...well...uh...Alright so this has been a LONG AN. I'll shut up now.

But FIRST! Thank you everyone for your wonderful comments. :) It's really nice to see your work being appreciated. And **Dina, **I'm glad you liked it. Thank you for reviewing! Or err...giving Thranduil his wine. :)

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**Chapter 3**

Thranduil's footsteps echoed throughout the long corridors and soon faded into the chambers. Thanks to his elf ears, Legolas could also pick up the sound of a door closing which in itself would be an otherwise impossible feat to achieve.

It wasn't after a few awkward seconds of standing around when he finally snapped back into his senses and headed towards his father's room. Gossip had it that the elven king was granted an unwanted visit by an old _friend_ while he was out. Rumour also had it that the elven king was made an obscene demand.

Well, at least the part of Thranduil tolerating the presence of said old_ friend_ was true. Legolas himself saw a Thorin Oakenshield tottering away to his kingdom on his pony. Blame it on perfect timing.

The question was— what did he want?

Turning a corner, Legolas stopped. He tilted his head in contemplation and then retraced his steps till he reached the wine cellar. Ignoring the curious looks from two of the guards (and one did look like having a slight tinge on his cheeks), he sorted through the vintage bottles.

When he was satisfied with his choice of Dorwinion's finest, he walked out of the cellar, nodding back to the guards on his way out.

Legolas let out a mild sigh while he stood before ornate oak doors. He knew better than to disturb his father while the king wanted solitude but whatever was plaguing Thranduil's mind must've been of immense magnitude. Why else would he give out stern orders of a lockdown? Legolas was familiar with this trait after all.

Clutching the bottle of wine tightly he breathed in and rapped gently on the door.

When no answer came at first, he called out to his father hoping to be let in.

"Ada?"

"It can wait," came the king's serious reply.

"What is it that bothers you?" He pleaded, "I understand the magnitude of danger that lurks, Ada. I see it in your face. I know it has something to do with last time's infestation. I want to understand the threat so I can defend better."

He stood back and frowned when his plead was met with shuffling sounds of paper.

"Ada, please. At least tell me what we must fear."

Still nothing. Frustrated, he was about to turn away when the door opened, revealing the king himself with a strange look crossing his face.

Legolas shifted slightly as he looked back at his father— who seemed to stare at his face with a distance in his eyes. The same look the king had at times when he thought that none was watching...even Legolas himself.

He was about to ask what was wrong when he was abruptly forced to swallow back his words when Thranduil suddenly reached out and pried the vintage bottle from his son's hands. Legolas half suspected of the other drinking it then and there but thankfully, the king silently asked him to enter while he went over to the wine cabinet to take out a glass.

Legolas held his tongue and looked over at the bed. Thranduil had a map of Middle earth sprawled all across it. In the background, he could hear a clink of glass touching glass, then a sound of liquid being poured followed by the mild clank of glass on wood as Thranduil gently set down the prized bottle.

He frowned slightly when none of his father's antics made absolutely no sense to him.

"What vexes you?" He asked at which, the king began pacing back and forth.

"Ada..."

"Darkness surrounds us." Thranduil finally responded, "Darkness that is building itself up slowly and surely."

"It has to do with the infestation."

Thraduil nodded, taking a sip from his glass.

"They are waiting for a suitable moment to strike," Legolas pressed on at which Thranduil raised his head and closed his eyes. "You suspect, they are being summoned by this dark force. You suspect an attack."

"I suspect the onslaught of evil, ion nin. Something far greater and far worse than any of us could ever handle. And I doubt that it will spare us."

Legolas' frowned deepened at that. His father was distressed. He was alarmed. It wasn't a mere case of their hatred for spiders. It wasn't a simple infestation. It'd be an ambush!

"When do you think it will happen? It doesn't sound immediate."

"At least not for now. Not yet. That makes it even more terrifying."

Legolas stepped back as his father filled his glass yet again, glancing over at the map.

"Is that why the map is there?" He asked, already concerned. His father seemed grave. _Fearful._ That in itself was an indication of what was to come.

His concern grew even more when he followed his father's eyes and figured what Thranduil had been doing all along.

He wanted to see the possible paths that will give way to attack!

"We should counter it!"

"Should the need arise. But for now, we wait and see." Thranduil replied, continuing to sip his wine.

At that moment, Legolas felt his mouth go dry. He knew his father well and never in his life did he see the elven king so grim. That worried Legolas. That worried him very much.

Still, there was one pressing matter he had to address.

"I saw Thorin Oakenshield leave."

At the mention of that name, Thranduil's shoulders tensed visibly and Legolas just had to wonder why. "Why was he here, Ada? What did he want?"

His father sipped once more but this time, the amount was a bit more than just a sip. Although Thranduil had turned his back towards Legolas, he could hear the small and subtle sound of a shaky breathe which the other drew in. He waited for an answer but he could already see that it must've been something troubling. He had never seen his father so unprecedented—even when he tried his best to guard his agitation.

"Nothing."

And Thranduil's reply didn't help either. All it did was to cement his concern.

"Please, Ada. It's not 'nothing'. I see your distress. Please, tell me. What did Thorin Oakenshield say?"

For a while, Thranduil seemed to really debate on whether he should speak or not. However, be it the wine or be it his anxiety, he finally turned and faced his son as he spoke with a low voice, "He asked me to marry him."

"W-what?"

Was it just his ears ringing? Did he hear it correctly? It was not proper to splutter like that in front of his father but Legolas couldn't help it! His disbelief clearly made itself known by his big, widened eyes.

As for his father, Thranduil looked...ashamed. He looked away from the other and confirmed softly, "He proposed to negotiate his alliance if and only if I promised myself to him." He looked up and this time, like his eyes, his tone too had the latent anger and shame seeping into it. "I am to invest myself and only_ then_ shall he make us allies!"

His nostrils flared as he tried not to punch a nearby wall, his hand clenching the wine glass as he downed the last of it.

For his own part, Legolas too was not faring well. He clenched his jaw and narrowed his eyes as his heart boomed with anger.

"How dare he? How could he? That bastard!" He said slowly, gritting his teeth.

How dare that insolence insult his father? How dare he to walk in and claim his father's hand as if he was just some common endowment? This was his father! How dare of that Oakenshield to insult his own father in his own home?

"Why was he here alone? His advisors were too prude to assist him during his negotiation?"

"Not for this _proposal_, of that I'm sure. Perhaps for reasons desperate enough. Perhaps for the same reason I suspect. But I _will _not accept his offer. And you _will _not do anything brash. Now please excuse me, ion nin. I'm tired. I need to think."

Legolas squinted his eyes but said nothing. He nodded and stepped outside of the room. However, he didn't go towards that of his own. Instead, he headed for the armoury.

When it came to his father's honour, he couldn't just sit back and let it be. He _had_ to do something. He _had _to act brash.

* * *

**AN:** Yeah, Thrandy NEEDS his wine. Whaaaat? You thought he was joking? XD

It seems like a slow pace but it'll pick up—trust me. Also, Thrandy and Leggy might be a little OOC but...well...wouldn't you be if your mortal enemy of all times just asked popped the question? XD That's a HUGE troll, isn't it? Right, okay. I wanted to show how pampered Legolas was because of him being Thranduil's only son (Author's license? ^^;) and I think because of it, he has deep love and respect for his father as well. Umm...so...yeah, sorry if they both seem OOC. ^^;

So what do you think of this chapter? Love it? Hate it? Please review. : ) It makes me really happy.


	4. Chapter 4

**The Investment**

**Disclaimer:** Nope, still not mine. *sighs* If I did own 'The Hobbit' (the book and/or the movies), I'd make it soooooo yaoilicious. Really I would. OH and more Thrandy-Leggy father-son fluff. :3

**Warning**: Multiple P.O.V's. I tried to keep it clear. Sorry if it seems confusing. ^^;

**AN:** Hello again! I'm so excited. I'm VERY excited. This is the last chapter to my overtly long intro. And four chapters of intro is saying something! XD. Umm...anyway. NOW will come the juicy bit. From next chapter, we will see the investment being made. It's gonna get uuuuglyyy. Mwahahahaha...Or...you know, just plain old drama. Or...awkwardness. O.o

ANYWAY. On with the story! But first, thank you everyone who've reviewed/faved/followed. You guys really really are a moral booster. Thanks! :D

* * *

**Chapter 4**

Thorin Oakenshield let out a huge sigh of relief after he had finally reached his palace. The journey was taxing and riding on Minty—no matter how gentle she was—always put a great strain on Thorin's body. Particularly the _bottom _of his body.

Once he reached his chambers, he practically lumped on to his favourite chair, thankful that whoever designed it had the common sense of putting space for a nice cushy cushion. He leaned against it and the comfort and the strain gently lulled him to sleep—

"Thorin!"

-which didn't last very long as he was jerked awake by the frantic voice of Balin who had barged into his room.

Thorin, seemingly perplexed at Balin's uncharacteristic behaviour, sat up and quirked a brow the other.

"Thorin, where have you _been_? I feared the worst and was about to send a search party!"

"I am fine, Balin. There is no need for worry." He tried soothing the other but Balin was too frantic to care.

"But of course I must worry! You set out in the morning and now look at the hour and the _day_! It is nearly dawn, _two _days after you set out. What on Valinor happened to you?"

Thorin opened his mouth to reply but he paused just before doing so. He didn't know whether it'd be right to tell Balin the whole account at that very moment, although it was justifiable and expected that it be done so.

However, the magnitude of the whole situation let him give in and re-enact the day's events to the elder dwarf whose eyes— with each and every word uttered— widened till they became as large as an orc's shield.

"WHAT?!" Balin's shriek made Thorin wince. "W-what were you doing in Mirkwood in the _first _place? You were supposed to turn the _other_ way! By Aule, Rivendel is to the right, Thorin. To the _right_!"

At that, a slight reddish tinge crossed Thorin's cheeks. There were some things that he _couldn't _answer and then there were some which he chose _not_ to answer. This—however—was one of those things which he _couldn't_ answer and so he _chose _not to answer.

Balin seemed to understand that as he shook his head and blinked quite a few times while grasping a more _unanswerable_ point of the whole ordeal.

"What was his response?"

"He refused it." Thorin stated flatly.

"Thorin Oakenshield, are you out of your mind? You— you demanded _Thranduil_ to marry you? Thranduil?"

Thorin pondered a while before shrugging, "Basically."

"You _hate _him!"

"Obviously."

"He hates _you_!"

"Nephariously."

"So then _why_? What were you thinking? Why didn't you just accept his offer?"

"Because!" Thorin finally snapped, fed up with all the panic stricken questioning. He growled as he did, his anger towards the elf king resurfacing while the account of him turning his back flashed in his mind. "I don't trust that elf. I don't trust him to keep his word. He stood there just _watching, _Balin. He just stood there watching as my people fell, my kingdom burned and he turned his BACK! He turned his back on us!"

"But Thorin, I'm sure he had his reason. No, no. Listen to me. I know how devastating it was but we do not know what explanation he has on his part. And he did aid us afterwards, did he not?" Balin reasoned quietening his tone as the other began to get agitated.

Thorin looked away, heaving a few times before he calmed down once again. Balin still waited for him to respond. The elder dwarf was very patient and Thorin really respected him for the logic the dwarf kept in him.

"He came in action only when the people of Laketown were in danger. He came to Bard's assistance, Balin. Not ours."

Out of the corner of his eyes, he saw Balin stroking his beard thoughtfully. "But he offered us help before, did he not?"

"In exchange for white gems!"

"Still he offered help which _you _refused."

At that, Thorin drew his breath in while his eyes narrowed slightly. That escaped his mind!

Balin wasn't done. He approached the king and pressed on with a disapproving voice, "You thought him succumbing to your eccentric demand would land you with great power? You thought you could be satisfied by having control over him?"

"Yes. Yes I did," came the other's stubborn response. "A prude like him would_ never_ acknowledge others' greatness over his own. If by this method, I could impress upon him of him being _not_ as great as he _thought_ he was, if by so I would have the satisfaction of knowing that a prude has been brought back on ground, then YES. I shall do it again. Again and again AND AGAIN!"

"Listen to yourself talking!" Balin raised his voice, clearly not at all accustomed to what Thorin had to say. "Take my advice. There's still time. Take this condition off from the table. Make the alliance."

Thorin sneered, shaking his head. "No."

"Look at you! You are obsessed with him!"

"AM I?"

"WELL, ARE YOU?"

Throin stepped back with widened eyes, unable to contain another gasp that escaped his mouth. He frowned deeply, his eyes widening further as Balin's words pounded in his mind.

He was_ not_ obsessed with Thranduil. He could never be! He did not think so often about the haughty elf. It was because of the immense betrayal on the other's part that replayed in his mind. That conjured anger in him and _that alone_ compelled his want of satisfaction over the other's defeat!

The haughty elf didn't invade his thoughts. His eerie and ethereal silhouette crossed his mind _only _when that moment replayed repeatedly in his head. The image of Thranduil turning his back on him.

He was not obsessed. He was _betrayed_.

Soon his shock wore off as his expressions hardened once more. He turned towards the other and said in an uncanny whisper, "It was still unpardonable."

"Thorin."

"The proposal stands. If he wants _my _help, he'll make himself my asset and I shall provide my alliance."

He eyed the elder for some time with imminent focus and stubbornness. Balin looked disdainful. He shook his head slowly and let out a sigh.

"Of all the qualities you have Thorin," he stated in a hushed and disappointed voice, "Your pride is one that can make you great and it will be your downfall. Here, I see no escalation, Lad."

With that, he slowly walked out of the room, leaving Thorin Oakenshield to ponder and seek revelation.

* * *

Legolas moaned as he staggered into the palace. He was beaten and bruised badly and was in excruciating pain as his left thigh throbbed. He disobeyed his father's orders and had headed for the southern territory, where the spiders lurked.

He didn't need Oakenshield's men to fight off the ghastly beasts. He didn't care for the number. He cared for his father. His father's pride. So he ventured alone, his bow and arrow and twin blades in place, he ventured alone.

Battle ensued. Some spiders were killed easily by swift aim of his arrows. Some put up a fight but the nimble elf had no problem slashing them with his blades. He leapt from tree to tree, soaring over the spiders, swooning in from under them—stabling, piercing, slashing them apart one by one. He was faring quite well. He hadn't broken a sweat.

He was enough. His father wouldn't have to go through that embarrassing ordeal _just _to keep their forest safe from these abominations.

The battle ensued and luck was in Legolas' favour. He eyed the ruin and felt satisfied when no spider sprang back up. However, in that moment he had let his guard down. One of the dastardly beasts ambushed him from behind and raised its venomous fangs. Thankfully, his sharp ears were able to pick up the quietest of scuffling sounds coming from the beast's legs and was able to get away from its way. He saved himself from being devoured by it but he wasn't too lucky.

For even though he had leapt out of the way, the spider struck down and one of its fangs slashed against Legolas' thigh, injecting it with small amount of potent venom.

Legolas was able to draw his blades and stab it at the side of its head, killing it instantly. He dropped on to a branch, then another and another, finally reaching the ground with a huge 'thud'. He was badly injured.

Though, he finished them off. Each and every one of them. Had there been more, he would finish them off too.

_He _was enough.

* * *

Thranduil was in his chambers resting when Galion had burst in.

"My Lord," he sounded extremely frantic, "The prince...he- he's hurt."

Doors flew open and Thranduil strode off towards Legolas' room. Galion was heard saying something about venom but Thranduil's ears registered none of it. His heart sunk and his mind was spinning completely out of his control.

He barely registered what Galion had to say. Words floated around Thranduil's ears but not in them. From what he had gathered, Legolas completely misinterpreted the situation! He thought Thranduil asked Thorin's help to fight off petty spiders. He didn't understand the essence of what Thranduil truly dreaded!

A gathering of all the dark forces. A total carnage!

_Elbereth Legolas! What have you done?_

He rushed towards his son, ignoring the healer calling him. His son was hurt...he was poisoned. His son...he lay there unconscious. So frail...so much in pain!

Thranduil was scared.

He slumped down beside his son, gently stroking his elfling's cheek. His head bowed and eyes closed as he dared not look at his boy for fear of not handling the scene that he'd see.

"My lord."

He heard Galion calling him. He didn't want petty assurances. He wanted Legolas healed and _safe_.

"Galion." He whispered in a trembling voice. "Send the messenger. Send him to Erebor."

And for that, he'd do anything.

"Tell him...I accept."

* * *

**AN:** Well, now you know why Thorin was in Mirkwood. Him and his awesome sense of direction! Somebody should really invent a compass for him. ^^; And hopefully, this explain a little bit about Thranduil's decision and Legolas' reaction. If not, feel free to ask me! I know this sounds confusing at times. Please review. :)


	5. Chapter 5

**The Investment**

**Disclaimer:** *sighs and shakes head* not mine. T^T

**Warning:** Mild language? You'll have to look very very carefully, though.

**AN:** It's Friday and I'm back with more! With weddings. YAY. With angst. YAY. With drama. And some of Thorin's awful pride. YAY! A huge thanks to everybody who've reviewed/faved/followed. You guys are awesome!

**Anon:** Thank you so much! : )

**Dina: **Thank you for reviewing! I wanted the movie to show more father-son dynamics. When it didn't...well...it didn't stop me! And yesh he has no idea. :D

* * *

**Chapter 5**

The wedding had been grand. Seeing as it was the marriage and union of two kingdoms, the grandeur of it all wasn't any less than it should be. So many delegates had attended. Even Gondor and Rohan had graciously paid their homage to the newly wedded couple. Of course, it would be a tremendous lie to say that none was baffled by the irregularity. No one would ever expect a dwarf to marry an elf and to think that it would be their kings! Unimaginable!

There were food and drinks all around. Wonderful exotic music soothing the atmosphere. Who knew brutes like dwarves had an uncannily deceiving taste in music? Who knew that elven music complemented it ever so nicely?

They adored the lavish halls of Erebor. They adored the smartly dressed groom and more so, they swooned over his gorgeous and beautiful counterpart as he came in white robes, white starlit jewels adorning him. It was a fairytale.

Yes, the wedding had been grand.

But as for the _spouse_, no matter how curtly he acted, all he simply wanted to do was to be done with this whole facade.

And as for the groom...well, he felt he still needed something more.

* * *

It was two days later when the guests finally took their leave. Two days later since after the wedding when Thorin could finally venture into his room. Now, _their _room.

He closed the door behind him and turned. He paused for a second when his eyes fell on the straight, silken blonde locks spilled over a tall slender back. He walked over to his bed, along the edge of which his new _husband _sat. By the looks of it, he had been doing so for quite some while, not even acknowledging Thorin's presence, or more likely, choosing to ignore it.

"If you have nothing to say, then stop staring at me." Finally, Thranduil spoke, although still not facing the other.

"And who says I have to say anything to you?"Thorin replied, rolling his eyes.

"Then stop staring at me."

"I wasn't staring at you." Thorin's eyes narrowed. Late at night, he wasn't in the mood for a damned spiteful elf. "And even if I were. They're my eyes. They can stare at anything they want! It's _my _business and mine alone."

Thranduil did react to that. He turned sharply and glared with all his spite as he said venomously, "Then take your disgusting business elsewhere! It's _my_ person and it doesn't approve of your stalking habits!"

"You insolent elf!" Thorin growled stepping closer to the other, unmindful of his personal space. He grabbed the other's shoulders and failed to notice Thranduil stiffening at the ungentle contact. "Who do you think you are? What vanity you have! You think everybody will stare at you, don't you? That everybody will be _mesmerised _by your oh-so-beauty! But let me tell you! You are nothing more than a commoner. You look no more extraordinary than the most common looking man. And let the skies be dark before I ever willingly stare at you! And let me tell you one thing. You. Do. Not. Order me around IN MY PALACE. IN MY KINGDOM!" He clenched Thranduil's shoulders tightly and jerked them a little not bothering to see whether the elven king appreciated it or not.

If he _had _noticed however, he would see the other's face growing grimmer and grimmer by the second and his eyes flashing fires of fury.

"King under the mountains, you invade my privacy." He finally said in a dangerous whisper and it is then that Thorin noticed just how _close_ he was to his _spouse_! He quickly snapped out of it and placed himself several steps back, sneering at the elf.

"Your haughtiness knows no bounds." He spoke, his voice seething with anger. "It's a shame no one pulled you back on the ground."

Thranduil breathed heavily. His face was straight but his eyes were ever so intense. If given a chance, Thorin was sure the elf would separate his head from his shoulders in one blink of an eye. But thankfully, that chance was not given to the other.

"The shame is yours, Dwarf king," came Thranduil's calm reply after a few moments had passed. "You'd have to use such extremities for trying to tame me."

The comment stabbed the addressed. And to add to the insult, Thranduil's lips twitched in a smirk. The snooty elf didn't know when he was beaten. He didn't know when to lose his pride! That _infuriated_ Thorin.

"You succumbed, don't you ever forget that." He said as his jaws set firmly against themselves. He glared at the other for a few moments more before deciding to take a walk.

On his way out, he slammed the door loudly.

_Never mind etiquette!_

If he stayed back a while, he'd notice Thranduil flinching at the loud noise. And if he bothered observing him, he'd notice the elf's demeanour becoming more sullen as his face fought back an extreme urge not to show his helplessness.

While he was here and his son was back in Mirkwood, recovering but still very frail.

* * *

Thorin looked out the balcony and gazed into the starry night. Gazing, but not really appreciating the beauty. No, his mind was still clouded with emotions he couldn't really identify. Whenever he was near that...that prude, it all came back Thorin hated his very guts! He experienced a plethora of emotions that were just too overbearing.

He hoped Thranduil would be more submissive...but now, he was reconsidering this idea.

"That doesn't seem like a happy first day of togetherness."

His thoughts were soon interrupted by his companion, who smiled gently at him, stroking his long white beard.

"Ah Balin. It is impossible to have just two seconds of bliss with _him _around."

Balin chuckled slightly, taking his place beside his king and friend. "But you will have him around. That is what you ensured, my friend. Whether you like it or not. You'll have to get used to him."

"But I can't! Thorin sneered again as the elf's prudence flashed in his mind. "I can't. He doesn't know his place here. He is still so—"

"Majestic?"

"And I _hate_ it! I _hate _his attitude. I hate his _pride_!_"_

"And where do you think _you _stand?"

That made Thorin look up at the other in confusion. He waited for Balin to continue, "Is it not your pride that was in play when you made such a proposal? Or is it your will to obtain the unobtainable? Or is it because of a reason more potent?"

"What is your point, Balin? That I _fixate _over that bastard?"

"Do you?" Balin seemed despondent. At his wit's end even. Why else would he make such a preposterous allegation?

"Never!"

"Thorin. For Mahal's sake. A loveless marriage is the greatest sin of all. Please? Annul it. It can still be done. For you, love comes only once. For him, marriage his sacred. Do not let your vanity ruin it all."

Thorin remained silent. He stared back at Balin as the other frowned gently, hoping to put some sense in the king's head. Thorin saw it. Thorin understood Balin's intention.

"No."

But his need to triumph was now greater. Especially now that the elf had given in. "The marriage stays. He will succumb."

Balin still tried, "Thorin—"

"He will succumb."

He left the elder and again headed for his chamber. It was unbearable to share the same room as the elf...it was however more awkward to share a space with Balin without feeling so...constricted.

He was greeted by Thranduil's back once more as he again closed the door. He rolled his eyes as the elf king yet again chose to ignore him. He still sat at the very same spot as he was left and he still was very much silent, even when Thorin lay down.

The silence was deafening and more. It was suffocating! And the other's presence...

"If you plan on sitting there, you might as well move over. It's been a long day and I would like to rest."

Still no response came from the other.

Either it was extreme bliss or extremely irritating!

Thorin groaned inwardly as his nostrils were attacked by the smell of jasmine and juniper. If not for the fact that they were utterly soothing, Thorin would've passed out long ago.

It also lulled him to sleep.

_WHAT AM I THINKING? IT'S DISGUSTING!_

He groaned loudly and felt Thranduil shifting away towards the farthest corner.

Juniper and jasmine? He was losing his mind! _Any_ smell related to _any_ elf—particularly THAT elf was obnoxious! Very _very _obnoxious!

He groaned inwardly again and closed his eyes.

_As long as his pride vanishes!_

He closes his eyes. He only hopes that whatever decision he made wasn't as terrible as Balin tried instilling in him. He just _hoped _he did what was necessary_._

* * *

**AN:** Yes, it's a very _very_ complicated relationship. I mean, this WILL be romance, right? At some point. Yeeeaaaah...umm...Please review!


	6. Chapter 6

**The Investment**

**Disclaimer:** had they been mine, Kili and Fili would still be alive and Legolas would be interacting waaay more with his daddy.

**AN:** An update! Yay! I had so much fun writing this chapter. You'll see why. And yes! I am very excited. This is a whole new arc. The story is moving forward. Thrandy is FINALLY among the dwarves and we will get more Thrandy and Thorin interaction! More spice, more drama coming right up! :D

As always, many thanks to everyone who've reviewed.

**Dina: **Well, let's see~ ;) Thanks for reviewing.

* * *

**Chapter 6**

A knock on the door woke Thranduil up. He had sat up till very late at night before his exhaustion finally took over. Not very keen on sharing a bed with the person who humiliated him utterly, he had at last resorted to one lavish looking chair, whose cushions and lean looked inviting enough.

He rubbed his eyes and proceeded to open the door. Very unkindly but then again...he wasn't a king here in this _prison, _now was he?

On the other side stood a dwarf guard. He offered Thranduil a sealed envelope and took his leave. Thranduil smiled bitterly as he noticed the manner in which that guard _somehow_ brought himself to pay respect.

_A just response, _he thought as he opened the envelope and started reading its inside contents.

He frowned but then his brows relaxed, a sigh of relief escaping his lips.

The spiders had retreated back a few paces and it was all but a breath of relief for the king who was away from Mirkwood.

_Away from home._

It provided momentary relief, no doubt!

It also said that Elros, who had been temporarily given the power of authority, was so far doing a recommendable job of keeping peace in his realm. Which reminded him to later negotiate with Thorin about the ruling of his kingdom.

His eyes narrowed at that very notion. Had he not been so utterly desperate, he would never bound himself to such _nauseating_ treaty. One that made him Thorin's trophy...one that made his kingdom Thorin's dowry.

_Technically, the _dwarf's_ kingdom now._

However, what choice did he have? It was either his own ego or his people...his son.

He clenched the letter slightly before setting his eyes on it again.

_Legolas._

It said, he was better. His fever had broken, most of the venom was out of his system but he was still in so much pain. Irrespective of his healing power and that of the healer's, it'd take time.

The gaze of those blue eyes became distant. Forests flashed before them, trees that had lived for thousands and thousands of years, his palace, his home...the face of his son.

Oh how he _longed _to see his son! Would Thorin let him? Would he grant him just one day to see Legolas? Was he_ that_ cruel? _That_ much inconsiderate?

His thoughts were soon interrupted by the ruffling sounds of covers and a groan. Thorin had woken up.

He quickly put the letter back inside the envelope and placed it on a nearby table, as he got ready for another boorish day.

"Is it the custom of elves", he heard him say, "to sit or stand for uncanny hours? And here I thought you were a prissy bunch." Thorin's voice was laden with sleep but still it didn't hide the mockery intended for Thranduil.

"Is it the custom of dwarves to lay down at the slightest chance they get? Here I thought you _weren't _a prissy bunch!" Thranduil retorted back extremely calmly, smirking as he saw a scowl hit Thorin's face. That scowl increased when Thorin's eyes fell on the displaced cushion on the chair Thranduil had been resting on.

"You better not sag the cushions, Elf. I like to unwind there at the end of the day." He went on with a smirk crossing _his _face, "Not that you'd have any idea what unwinding is. One needs to get some work done for him to unwind."

Thranduil raised his chin, looking down at the other. "Or maybe our kin isn't accustomed to taking frequent rests for them to unwind."

"Or maybe your kin works just too hard to get things right!"

"Or maybe your kin works sluggishly just to get the work done."

Thorin seethed at this and Thranduil was honesty _very_ satisfied. If he wanted Thranduil, Thorin would get him. _All _of him. Thranduil would make sure of that.

"And this morning has just shown a glimpse of your kin's habits." Thranduil went on, running his fingers through his fine silken hair, "And of course _when _the king is available for court. I'm amused."

"Now listen here you—"

Thorin had started to say something, untangling himself from multiple sheets but he was quickly cut off by a wave of Thranduil's hand.

"I'd love to hear you speak, king under the mountains. You never seem to bore me with your antics. However, hygiene comes first to me and my kin and I'd like to freshen up." He headed for the bathroom but before he did, he glanced at the other over his shoulders and threw a damning smirk. "We'll have so much to learn from each other. I'm looking forward to those. Even though the exchange will be mostly one-sided."

He turned and headed to freshen up, his smirk widening as he heard a hushed swear word in the back ground.

* * *

He had heard things of dwarven hospitality, yes. But _this_ was beyond anything that Thranduil could _ever_ imagine. Currently, he was sitting beside Thorin— his _husband— _and was wedged between him and some other person with a ghastly sense of fashion.

_Hair_ was meant to be braided. Hair was _proper_ to be braided...but so much intricacy on a _beard_? Dirty, unkempt, smelly _beard? _

_Augh._

He'd _never_ understand such fashion.

"It's dwarven beauty", the person—whose name Thranduil didn't bother to know—spoke while ripping apart a piece of bread.

"Indeed." Thranduil sneered slightly but quickly regained his composure as he took tiny bites out of his bread. He noticed Thorin glaring at him but he ignored him as usual.

Dwarven beauty, Elven loutish...just like a golden stone vessel.

"You might as well reply him. It's only proper." He heard Thorin scorn, displeased as it was. But Thranduil barely flinched.

"Proper is not forcing a marriage out of jest," he retorted back in a cool but dangerous voice, "Proper is not _treating _a king like an _investment._"

"Proper is also honouring the _jest _when it is made official and with _consent._ You were given a choice." Thorin replied, his tone heating also.

"With not much to _choose from_!" Thranduil hissed, squinting dangerously as his bitterness crept back up.

"But it gives you no right to insult another after you've made your choice!"

"I've graced you with my presence. That is not much of an insult, I'd believe."

"Such puffed up self importance does not suit a person in your position!" Thorin raised his voice. Clearly he had had enough and was trying his best not to lash out at the other as he gritted his teeth and breathed heavily. "Do NOT forget your place here, Elf!"

"My place is _behind_ my _husband, _Dwarf. You've _ensured_ it." Thranduil snapped back, his own voice rising just a little with ample hiss. He too had had enough.

By then the banquet hall had grown silent. All eyes were on the two of them as they exchanged another round of heated words. The first one being Thranduil refusing to eat anything after food was offered to him. But that sure changed.

This time though, both the kings grew extremely grim. Both clenched their jaws and looked heatedly at each other, none refusing to look away.

Finally, Thorin spoke. "Wasn't it always? Even at that unfateful day, weren't you always a step behind?" He had a tone that bled pain and harshness.

Thranduil's eyes softened at that as he lowered his gaze. No matter what he did, he could not blame Thorin for having that spite against him. But Thorin refused to understand his own dilemma.

_I had to...I had no choice._

The banquette hall grew sullen, dwarves looking at each other and silently asking each other what they should be doing in that awkward ambiance. Silently remembering the utter loss and vulnerability and harshness they had to suffer all those years ago.

Thranduil noticed the one beside him had also set down his food. He wasn't hungry any longer.

He smiled in sadness and stood gracefully, nodding at the others while he silently took his leave. His anger involved Thorin, after all. No reason why he should sour the mood of others.

* * *

He had been standing at the balcony. The sun rays fell on him and Thranduil basked in their warmth. It reminded him of Greenwood. It was long ago when darkness hadn't yet engulfed it. He remembered how he dotted it and named it _Eryn Lasgalen_. How fitting the name was!

That was all before it became Mirkwood and despite everything, Thranduil kept it safe. Kept his people safe from the darkness that threatened again and again. Never once had he succumbed in defeat.

_Until now, _he thought bitterly_. _

He should've been content for the morning's exchange and yet he was not. Thorin Oakenshield's words somewhere hit a chord in his heart in the most unpleasant of ways.

He could never deny it. He _did _turn his back, he _did _leave them to fend for themselves and the outcome _was _dreadful.

Still...what was he to do? He had seen the devastation. He had seen how powerful that dragon was. He had seen how many died and how few lived. He could never lead his people to sure death! Not for a handful. He couldn't endanger his own realm with the dragon's wrath.

The decision was not out of revenge...it was a pragmatic one.

And even though he knew he did what was right at that situation, he always—_always— _hated himself for having to do that.

He sighed and closed his eyes.

If only the circumstances were better...if only Thorin wouldn't threaten to turn his back...

That is how Thorin felt then. That is how Thranduil felt now.

He heard footsteps. They approached him and as the person stood beside him, he could feel the other shifting slightly on his feet.

He dared not look at the other person—whoever it was—who provided him silent company. He didn't want to feel any more worse than he already did.

The other cleared his voice and it is then that Thranduil noticed who it was.

"Properness in question," he said, "It is not proper to leave the table while eating. Neither is it proper to taunt someone while eating. For that Elf and that alone, I...I apologize."

Thranduil opened his eyes and looked down at his adversary, now spouse.

"We wish..." said adversary paused, struggling to find proper words which he tried to convey to the other, "We wish that you..." He groaned when they couldn't be brought to his mouth. When Thranduil was about to look away, he felt the other person grab his hand and stuff something soft into it before turning his back at him.

The elven king frowned lightly and turned his palm, his gaze melting at the thing in question and the gesture that was made.

"Eat up Elf," he heard his adversary say, "The bread's still fresh."

And Thranduil was amused. For the first time in days, he was truly amused.

He did hear about dwarven hospitality. _This_ was beyond anything that he could ever imagine.

* * *

**AN:** I love Thorin. I love him so much. *sighs* And Thranduil too...I know I might make him a little OOC but it's just that he's not a bad guy. He is misunderstood...and even though nothing explicitly is stated about his relationship with his son, I personally believe that he loves him very *very* much and Legolas is his world! Do let me know what you think of this chapter. I really appreciate your feedback. : )


	7. Chapter 7

**The Investment**

**Disclaimer:** Still not mine. *sighs*

**AN:** I originally wrote a fluff/angst piece as this chapter but it didn't of course work. I am getting there. The dark subplot needs to be covered and I better start paying more attention to it, instead of just Thorin and Thranduil—Thrandy in particular—fretting over it! Umm...so, I'm getting there. Definitely more development with chapters to come. But please do tell me if you find the pace too slow. Or abrupt.

Thank you everyone who've reviewed/faved/had this in alerts. You guys are awesome!

* * *

**Chapter 7**

Frantic footsteps echoed throughout the corridors. Being a dwarf, the warrior didn't have long strides but what he lacked in length he made up for it in speed. In his hands was a bloodied axe that clearly indicated an ominous encounter. He was bruised and sore but none of it registered as he hastened his steps towards the throne room.

He had to find the king!

* * *

The door flew open and he stormed in unmindful of the usual courtesies. His rash appearance did not go unnoticed as the king seemed startled and his spouse— who otherwise made it extremely clear that he had no interest in the lives of dwarves— sat up with an equally astonished expression on his face.

"Speak up, man!" He heard Thorin say in a voice laden with utter bewilderment. "What in Mahal's name happened?"

The guard panted to regain his breath. When he did, he spoke in a very high pitched and fervent voice, "My king! The trolls...they have come down again."

"Trolls?" Their king was alarmed. As was the elven king beside him who held a dismal expression to his face. "Where? How far are they? Are they stationed or in motion?" He heard him speak. His voice wasn't perplexed as that of the dwarf king but it bore no traces of calmness.

"Stationed, my lord." The warrior responded, "Right at the foot of the mountains. They are only four in number. Or..." He hesitated and shifted his eyes between the elf and his king. Bleakness covered their faces—more in case of the elf—and less but masked well with agitation in case of the king.

"Well?"

"Or...they _were_. My company on patrol encountered them and they were dealt with." He paused, swallowing hard to moisten his throat, "T-they ate our ponies. Two of us are severely injured! I-I don't understand. They weren't supposed to set foot here. They're not the brightest of bunch or the most desperate...my king." He stopped and scampered to bow as he realised how aggressive he must've sounded in panic.

"Why in _Eru's name_ would you attack them?" He flinched as the elf king hissed, his eyes flashing with something along with fury. "You should've waited for _orders. _What if you've agitated them? What if more come and what if you aren't well equipped to face them? Have you not thought of _that_?"

"Enough, Thranduil!" His king intervened, shooting a glare at the other. He then faced the patrolman and spoke, his face completely focused and serious, "That _was_ a rash thing to do. Your first reaction—instead of launching an attack—should've been reporting to _me._"

The dwarf closed his eyes and bowed in apology. "I-I'm sorry, my king." But they were killing their ponies! They were threatening to kill them! He acted out of fear!

He was trembling from the adrenaline rush and the fear of wrath from the two kings. He nearly flinched when King Thorin addressed him after a short pause of silence, "Go tend yourself, soldier. Bear word to the men _not _to launch an attack without agitation. Ask them to report to me on a regular basis and then wait for my orders. Now leave us."

He somehow scurried another bow and darted out of the room as fast as he could.

* * *

Thorin rubbed his temple as the newest of development hit him. The trolls had demonstrated this kind of behaviour before. His own company had seen it very closely. Back then, it was scarcity of food. But the mountains now _teamed _with _food. _What he couldn't understand was_ how _the scarcity arose all so suddenly?

_What is happening?_

"It's what I fear." He was brought back to his attention by Thranduil's eerie voice. Thranduil was ghosting very close to him and even though Thorin abhorred the idea of breathing the same air as the elf, he somehow felt it inevitable for him to resist the urge of drawing in a lungful of the rich scent radiating all around Thranduil.

The elf was _demanding_ his attention. His icy blue eyes boring deep into Thorin and even though the dwarf king had only graced the taller one with the barest of his peripheral vision, he could still _feel _Thranduil's very piercing gaze all over him.

And if that in itself was a dilemma, he could also _feel, _stirring in him, the plethora of emotions all rampant and wild crashing in his chest and mind. Of all, one which was the strongest was pure anger.

How _dare_ he to ignore Thorin's presence? How _dare_ he to command his guard as if he was the supreme ruler of them all?

He gritted his teeth and counted mentally, hoping to ease his fast breathing. Thorin felt shame. He felt _absolute_ shame being ignored like that and that too by the likes of such an impervious creature! But what angered him more...what shamed him more was the fact that Thranduil looked so _natural _and so _outlandish _whenhis eyes sparked fire for those countable moments.

"This is a pattern, can you _not_ see?" Thranduil spoke more persistently. He knelt down before the other, eyes wide and wanting Thorin's full attention as they gazed straight into them. "It has happened before, it happened again and soon, more and more such occurrences will be common and dreadful to think about! It's the dark force that stirs them. The darkness awakens!"

At that, Thorin'e eyes flashed wildly. Did he really think Thorin was so ignorant?

_Unfit as a king?_

His jaws tightened at that very notion. It took him all his strength just to keep the appearance of calmness. And yet...

Yet, why was his chest constricting so much? Why did he feel the itch in his hands to want to _swat _Thranduil away?

Fingers flinching, Thorin clenched his hands into tight fists. He breathed in and out and pried his mind off from his thoughts and frowned deeply when he deemed it impossible.

Even now, as the elf king stood very close to him, he forced his hands to stick to his sides. He never unclenched his fists, fearful of them disobeying him and actually reaching out to that _delusional _being.

He would've let out a groan had he not been in the other's _loathsome _company. He couldn't let Thranduil enjoy the satisfaction of seeing such..._disgusting _weakness on Thorin's part.

_Weakness?_

The dwarf king narrowed his eyes. Thranduil's voice was ringing in the background and was rising then and now, clearly wanting Thorin's attention. However, much to the other's dismay, all he could think of right then was how..._foreign _Thranduil was and.

"Are you listening to me?"

Thorin was. How could he _not _when again he was reminded of Thranduil's _unpardonable_ boldness_? _He focused majorly upon controlling his breathing, keeping it calm and slow. Unexplainably, it was becoming much too erratic.

All that kept ringing in his ears was— how infuriating his demeanour was and how Thorin wanted nothing more than to shove him away with the strength that Mahal had gifted him.

How he wanted nothing _more _than just to have a breath full of his frustratingly rich aroma!

Thorin's eyes widened immediately with shock as the last thought became coherent. He twisted his face in disgust and dug his nails deep into his flesh, as if to try and smack the ridiculousness away from his mind.

What was he thinking? He was thinking about the same person who just moments ago insulted his authority? Forgot his own place in Erebor and now had the _audacity _to challenge Thorin's deductive capacity?

His face became strong and eyes hardened as he finally directed his gaze at the elf.

"First of all," Thorin replied, ignoring the look of horror in Thranduil's eyes for a moment, "How dare you to address _my _subject like that with _me _beingpresent?"

He saw blue eyes widening at the sudden shift in topic before quickly they shot a warning look at the other.

"What is the matter with you?" He admonished Thorin, "This is far more important that you not being able to scream at your subject's _diminished _capacity of decision making!"

Thorin frowned deeply as he faced the elf, unappreciative of his demeanour. "Diminished capacity of decision making? What was he to do when they took their ponies? For all you know, they might've been next on the menu! You never faced them! You'd never understand!"

Thranduil seemed distraught. He was distraught yet at the same time very much roused up by Thorin's words.

"And as for his decision, yes. It was rash. Yes, it was panic-stricken and YES he should've reported to ME! But do NOT tell my subjects what to do. Do no ever SPEAK to them as if you bear authority while I am in the same room as YOU! Never forget who the king of Erebor is!"

"Then ACT like one." Thranduil hissed dangerously, standing up in disconcert and glaring heatedly down at the other. "Your men might've brought ample distress as it is!"

"I AM acting like one!" Thorin retorted back, smacking the arm of the throne as he too stood up, frustrated with the elf's attitude. "I am aware of that! I am doing my duties. You do not need to tell me what should be done and what shouldn't!"

"I would never dare, _had _the king of Erebor any remote semblance of a sense of urgency!" Thranduil fumed and it was so uncharacteristic of him. He looked marginally frenetic and his tone fared no better in hiding it. "Act now. Or you won't be able to endure!"

However, his insult was far too much for Thorin to take. He snarled violently and retorted back, "The king of Erebor _has _that sense, Elf! I _have _given appropriate orders. And I certainly do NOT have to explain myself to the likes of you! You, who would find it his basic instinct to shut his realm off to the rest of the world and cower away while the outside world _burned._"

He noticed the flinch in the other as those words were mentioned. However, that was no base for Thorin to harbour forgiveness for the elf.

"You speak of the alarming danger that looms over us. Yet, when the danger was imminent, you turned away and pretended nothing happened!" He continued, "And now the nerve of you to _dictate _me what my actions should be! You dare imply that I do not know how to protect MY people. You, who left the responsibility entirely upon our shoulders, who were then too few in number and too frail to take the burden of it! Yet we survived then and we shall survive NOW."

"Do you know what endurance is?" He said in a flaring tone as he suddenly grabbed Thranduil's arm, paying no heed to the sudden stiffness in the elf and his attempt at pulling away.

"What are you doing? Release me!"Thranduil protested but Thorin paid no heed. He dragged the elf out in the balcony and shoved him forward where the sight of his people could be seen, engaged in everyday's work.

"_This_ is endurance, elf. Look! Look at my people. See there? That fellow lost his wife in the great fire. That man right there! He was once the best metal worker in Erebor. Incomparably fast and light on his feet. Now his legs bear no strength. His hip broke and needs to be supported. Yet he comes to work—every single day. Yet he produces the finest metal work in all of the country! THAT is endurance. Look there. No- no! Do not turn away, LOOK!" He reached up and grabbed hold of his chin tightly, forcing Thranduil to watch. "That lady lost her husband, her children and has seen her family being slaughtered by that dragon! It's a miracle she hasn't lost her mind! She still works as a governess and is STILL the most trusted when it comes to our babes! THAT is endurance!"

He released Thranduil with a jerk and narrowed his eyes at him. "You want me to act? You want me to send an alarm and infest panic? What good will it do to them? It is their courage that helps them to _endure._"

At those words, Thranduil visibly softened— even if by a fraction. The flare in his eyes was still there but the ambience of temper was minutely diminished as he took in the resilient people of Erebor.

"So tell me Elf. What is it do you want me to do?"

Thranduil's sigh could be heard clearly. He met Thorin's gaze—the fire in his own still smouldering as he touched his chin. "Do not ever touch me." He said in a low tone, "Not, without my consent."

Thorin squinted in reply. "Do not ever address my subjects so chidingly. _Never _within my presence."

His gaze still lingered upon Thranduil, who stared back his pride slightly hurt. However, there was a hint of something else in his eyes. Something other than hurt ego. Fear? Desperation? Whatever it was, it was enough to rile up that impertinent sophist. Thorin couldn't exactly place his fingers on it but one thing he knew for sure.

No matter how impudent he was, a pedant entity such as Thranduil would _never _forget his mannerisms. He would _never _act so reproachfully!

And that in itself was a matter of grave concern.

* * *

**AN:** It was Thranduil's turn to be out back into his place. Next chapter, Thorin and Thrandy definitely TRY to get along. TRY being the keyword. :D Till then, let me know what you think of this chapter. Please review. :)


	8. Chapter 8

**The Investment**

**Disclaimer:** 'The Hobbit' (the books and the movies) do not belong to me.

**Warning:** Language

**AN:** As I have promised, I am getting there. I know this might seem a bit slow but trust me, any faster than this will totally seem unbelievable!

Also, thank you everyone who've reviewed/faved/followed. Let me tell you this- you guys taking your time out to review means a lot to me. Thank you all.

* * *

**Chapter 8**

It was late at night. All of Erebor was sleeping, yet Thranduil could not. His mind was too much preoccupied for him to have a second's rest. From his chair, he looked over at Thorin, sleeping peacefully on the bed.

They seemed so unaffected. So _ignorant _of the whole situation. All of them! However, Thorin's words about his people still bubbled in his mind. Each time he closed his eyes, the scene from the balcony flashed, waking him up in a cruel jerk.

What would they do once they were hit again by another calamity? Would they still endure? Or would they crumble and fall— as they had when Smaug set out his onslaught?

It was then that a thought crawled in his mind.

_What of Mirkwood?_ He wondered as a small restlessness accumulated in his chest. _How long before it too falls prey?_

He thought about asking Thorin to let him go over there, to see what the situation was with his own eyes. He knew that whatever peace reigned, it was nothing more than the calm before a storm. He thought about going there...but he hadn't the chance to let Thorin know. He certainly couldn't go there _without _Thorin's _consent_! That much was made clear to him earlier that day.

And then, there was a more grave reason for him to go.

_Legolas..._

His son. He wondered how he was! It had been days since he had heard from his people regarding his health. And it ate him away. The _worry_ gnawed at him and ate him away!

He was about to go out for a walk when he heard Thorin shift in the covers.

"You sitting there is just so bothersome, do you know that?" He heard him say in a tired voice.

"Forgive me. I will spare you the trouble." Replied Thranduil, rising up from his seat. "I was about to go and get some fresh air."

"At this hour?" Thorin sat up straight and now he was looking at the elf with traces of...concern? "And what do you wish to accomplish by roaming at this hour? Except for a few dwarves scared out of their wits when they see a tall figure wandering down the halls?"

Thranduil didn't reply. He was in no mood to respond to the taunts and teases.

Silence loomed over both of them and for a great while, none did anything to initiate verbal contact... of _any _form whatsoever.

When Thorin was shuffling back under the covers, Thranduil spoke suddenly in a low tone, "I wish to return to Mirkwood for a few days."

"That can't be done." He said tactfully at which, Thranduil frowned. Now was _not_ the time to play that silly game of king and _pawn._

"Then I request you to grant me the power of authority on Mirkwood."He tried again but to no avail. Thorin refused him yet again.

"But _why_?" He couldn't help but sneer. This was ridiculous! How could he still be so stubborn when so many lives were at stake? "The terms of our kingdoms did _not_ come into play when we agreed on this...contract! Insofar, I maintain my rule over Mirkwood. I have full capability of acting on my decisions!"

"The terms of our marriage_ implicitly_ stated that I maintain my right on you and you agreeing to come to Erebor as my spouse _gives_ you the inherent status of you being the submissive one." Thorin responded admirably in a calm manner, citing facts with utmost logic. "Therefore, as far as politics go, Mirkwood now _too_ falls under _my _jurisdiction. And as the right bestowed upon me, I decline your _request _to visit it."

Thranduil gasped. He couldn't believe it! Even after the dreadful news, even after the guard's frightful account and his own warning of an ominous presence, Thorin _still _held on to his pride! He simply couldn't believe it!

A familiar sense of anger stirred in his chest. He could feel it building up more and more as a sense of helplessness washed over him. He clenched his hands into fists and stood up, frowning heavily at the other.

"I only agreed to this preposterous contact only because of your promise to aid me, should the need arise!" He tried hard but somewhere along the line, his tone betrayed him when it couldn't constrain the frustration towards the dwarf. "I require that assistance _now_! You denying me of that just shows how much your words actually are valued!"

Thorin didn't take it well. He sneered back, also unable to contain his agitated tone, "Do _not_ accuse me of breaching! So far, I've done _nothing_ but comply with our terms. Yes, I'll send assistance but only when you truly _need _it! No word has reached my ears of Mirkwood being in danger. I do not simply see the point of sending my men and stationing them as of now! I would think the elves are capable of handling defence when no such immediate danger exists!"

"How could you ever know if _any_ danger exists in Mirkwood?" Thranduil finally snapped raising his tone in pure frustration. "Have you ever _bothered _to gather news of my realm?"

"I know enough, Elf!" Thorin yelled back, climbing down from the bed and approaching the other with heavy steps. "Do not undermine my resources!"

"If they remain so oblivious, then I have but no choice to undermine!" Thranduil retorted, shooting sharp glares at his loutish _spouse_.

"They are following my order of not doing anything rash!" The glare was equally matched by Thorin as did his rising voice. "Your hypocrisy surprises me! Here you rebuke my subject about carefulness and here you are willing to throw away that practice? You _damned _charlatan!"

"Your kingdom is NOT in danger of being barricaded, you stupid IGNORANT fool! They got injured at their OWN brainlessness! Your people were NOT attacked!"

"Neither were yours!"

"You do not KNOW that! You CAN NOT know that! When it comes to Mirkwood, you do not think with your MIND! You think with your vain BALLS!" Thranduil screamed vehemently, his face now hot and red with the insurmountable rage at the other's prudence.

"At least I HAVE balls to stand up for my own people. Unlike YOU who so easily gave in to the _preposterous contract _YOU yourself speak of!" Thorin retorted back in utter ferocity. "For the love of MAHAL, what the FUCK has gotten into you? It's BLOODY middle of the night! Why can't you let others take a bit of BLOODY well deserved REST?"

"I DID IT FOR MY SON, YOU DAMANABLE BASTARD!"

When the full magnitude of his words hit him, Thranduil suddenly let out a gasp as his eyes widened with shock. His mouth went completely dry at the admittance of the horrid truth. _That _seeded his fear of losing his only child. That _alone _made him to act the way he did!

He breathed heavily as another realization circled over him.

Thorin knew.

His heart jumped and skipped with _terror. _What if the dwarf now used this weakness against him?

What if he used Legolas?

Moments passed when no words escaped his trembling lips. Moments passed as Thorin too did not make any form of sound. He was just as stunned.

It was then that his self control gave away. Thranduil breathed in shakily with a pained expression.

His knees buckled and Thranduil flopped down on the chair. He half expected Thorin to mock him!

The mockery did not come.

In its place, a warm hand did as it squeezed his trembling shoulder gently and _that _surprised Thranduil by manifolds.

He looked up and saw the mellowed face of the other—something he never hoped to see for _him—_and it was then that tears fell.

"I did it for him. My son's gravely hurt." He wheezed, all of his frustrations coming out with a hiss, and let out a shuddered breath, as the shoulder was squeezed again with a bit more of the warmth.

"Of course, I don't expect you to understand." Thranduil continued, not noticing the small flinch let out by the other. He shot a sharp glare at the dwarf but couldn't retain it. His eyes betrayed him as worry clouded over them like a mist.

Thorin's eyes had softened. He simply stood there, just squeezing the other's shoulder and it was his way of providing support.

"He'll be alright." He finally said softly.

Thranduil closed his eyes hoping that the sting in his eyes didn't roll down as more signs of betrayal and weakness. Not before _him _who was the root of all his evils! Still...Thorin's console seemed _so _alien to him. And yet, strangely enough, so much trustworthy.

"He'll be alright." He patted the elf and handed over a pillow and a cover for him silently asking him to go and get some rest.

And as he headed back to his bed, Thranduil couldn't help but stare at his retreating back till he lay down. He found no words to speak. He found no thoughts to think.

That night, _Thorin_ seemed so foreign and yet so sincere.

* * *

**AN: **Okay, so time for the apologies. I'm so sorry for this late update. I've got my exams coming and I won't be able to update my stories for a couple of weeks. But the updates will be super fast after that. :)

Sorry if Thranduil seems OOC. ^^; As always, I really appreciate your feedback. They encourage me and motivate me. I welcome constructive criticisms. So, please review. :)


	9. Chapter 9

**The Investment**

**Disclaimer:** All rights are reserved to J.R.R Tolkien (novels) and Peter Jackson (movies).

**AN:** I'm back! This one is more like a filler. Let the awkwardness ensue!

* * *

**Chapter 9**

Morning came a little later for Thranduil. He had finally fallen asleep out of sheer exhaustion which was more of a mental form rather than physical. He looked around and saw the bed already empty, as Thorin had woken up already and was busy in his kingly duties.

He groaned slightly and massaged his neck while heading for the washroom. Once inside, he looked in the mirror and came face to face with his disarrayed self.

By the Valar, he looked _terrible_!

His eyes were red and swollen, his hair was all over Arda and anyone with a decent sense of vision would quickly deduce that someone in the king's chamber had been in tantalizing tension and it wasn't the king!

As he began washing his face, Thranduil's mind involuntarily traced back to the night before. The night before when he couldn't hold himself together. In front of Thorin.

A dark blush crept upon Thranduil's cheeks as he vividly remembered letting his tears fall so freely, so openly in front of the other. Revealing his most vulnerable spot of heart...something he never hoped to do. Ever!

However, the night before he also deemed what the dwarf king was! He was more than his normal brutish self.

Thranduil stared up at the mirror again and gazed at his own reflection with softer and mellower eyes. Much like Thorin's...so much like the way the other had looked at _him _while his heart anguished in fear and desperation. No matter how much Thranduil tried, he couldn't stash— in the back of his mind— the vivid picture of gentle brown eyes staring at him reassuringly...while his touch...

A hand reached up and tenderly touched his cheek as the blush darkened even further.

While his touch was just as much trustworthy and soothing.

_And so warm. _

The dwarf king...he was so _compassionate_! It was almost a privilege on Thranduil's part to witness such a rarity.

Suddenly, his lips let out a gasp as Thranduil quickly snapped out of his trance.

What was he_ thinking_? Why such thoughts came to him so early in the morning? And the fact that most of his thoughts centred around or were dominated by _Thorin_—it was reason _enough _for Thranduil to suspect that he had completely lost his mind!

That or he was too cooped up in that box of a chamber for his own good!

He shook his head as a feeble attempt to clear his mind and stepped inside the bath. He hoped that freshening up was a plausible solution to his unjustifiably weary mind.

"I believe this came for you, your Highness." One of the older dwarves addressed him with a smile as he handed him an envelope.

He smiled again as Thranduil took it from his hands graciously. As he inspected the seal, he all but perked up instantly. It was the seal of Mirkwood!

He turned his back at the other and with clumsy hands, tore it open, feeling all the colours draining from his face already for anticipation of the type of news the letter might contain.

However, once he had started reading, his face slowly regained its pallor and his features—tensed a few minutes ago—visibly loosened as relief set in.

The spiders were all slain, it said. Legolas slew them single-handed and Thranduil noted the pride he felt for his son who was growing up to become a great warrior.

_Great but rash._

He had specifically _told _the lad to wait for his orders...had he done so, he wouldn't be—

Thranduil frowned and read ahead.

The spiders were dead and so far, no new flock gathered in place of the dead ones.

It wasn't this part, however, that grabbed Thranduil's wonder. It was what followed that truly astonished the elven king.

_The prince is getting better. Those dwarf medicines His Highness has sent are powerful and they spare no time to take effect. His is still weak and is in need of rest. However, the venom seems to be wearing off faster than expected. The wound to his leg is healing nicely as well. It is only a matter of time before he is fully recovered._

_We all owe His Highness extreme gratitude for his quick thinking and immediate course of action._

_Yours faithfully,_

_Galion._

Dwarf medicines? A crease appeared in between Thranduil's brows as the unexpected information sunk in.

He hadn't sent any! He had no knowledge of any, either! So then who _did _send those? Who had known of Legolas' condition?

Save for Thorin...who came to know just the night before.

_He couldn't have had prior knowledge!_

He must've been facing the white bearded dwarf unknowingly. Perhaps his face made some unconscious expressions that had prompted the other to smile at him, yet again.

It seemed that this dwarf (Balin, was it?) liked to smile at whatever occasion he got and Thranduil couldn't help but make a face at him to wordlessly inquire about his amusement.

Luckily, he got the hint and responded, "Seems as though the king _does _have his sources, hm?"

"Pardon me?" Thranduil felt perplexed. The king?

He couldn't hide his surprise and confusion any longer and asked back, "What are you saying?"

_Thorin sent those herbs? But that's impossible! How could he know of Legolas' injury so far ahead?_

At that, Balin's smile widened as he looked back with cheekyness in his eyes. "Thorin isn't ignorant, you know? Neither is he a bastard. Only hard headed at times. He surely knows enough, don't you think?"

Thranduil heard the other let out a chuckle as his own face twisted in further confusion before the dawn of realization struck him.

No wonder those words sounded familiar!

_That cheeky bugger!_ He marveled and let his mouth hang ajar.

"Do not tell me you were outside our chambers last night!" He was too shocked to even hide the awe from his voice as he exclaimed!

At that, Balin heartily laughed out. "Oh Lad! I assure you, I wasn't eaves dropping. With you two screaming on top of your lungs on a desolate night, I can say with certainty that _all _of Erebor could hear what you two said!"

Thranduil's cheeks nearly burned with shame! Were they _that _loud?

His eyes widened at those precise words echoing in his mind and he _felt _the hot swell of blush spreading all over his cheeks.

_Eru, what is _wrong _with me?_

For once, He was speechless!

Balin seemed to read his expression vividly like a script and to ease Thranduil's growing confusion and conjecture, he finally offered in a pert laden voice, "Maybe you should ask the king himself? He's in the library."

And before Thranduil could ask or say anything further or even inquire as to how Balin _knew _the content of the letter, he found himself gaping at the dwarf's retreating back. Right then, he was experiencing a range of emotions—varying from plain and simple confusion to extreme awe!

* * *

As was informed by Balin, Thorin Oakenshield was _indeed _in the library, thick books and records sprawled in front of him as they cried out for his attention. Ever since that morning, he was in a strange mood. He couldn't fathom _why_ but no matter how hard he tried to justify his emotions, he came up with nothing. No matter how hard he tried to find the _cause _of him being so distracted, he came up with _nothing._

_Nothing_ except the reflection which floated in his mind and quickly disappeared. The reflection of a certain elf's face, iridescent with an eerie glow...such a subtle glow in the darkness and so alarmingly _humane _with drops of pearls sliding down those smooth cheeks.

He couldn't cast that ghoulish picture out of his mind! And if he tried to delve into that image, it vanished just as quickly as it had appeared.

He groaned and pinched the bridge of his nose, resisting the urge to slam his head against the desk.

Why was he having such strange thoughts about that snooty creature? Was it exhaustion? Or was it because for the first time, the elf demonstrated something more than his cold, aloof and _sinister_ self?

Suddenly, he heard a knock on the door and he scrambled to _appear _focused while burying his nose in his 'work'.

He had expected his subjects or even Balin, who came by earlier and offered him the news of the elf's son's health.

How he had known was a baffling mystery. Or perhaps he'd attribute it to his immensely meticulous skill of breaking open and resealing a letter...more likely the latter but either way, he didn't hold back when he offered Thorin his _wisdom _as well.

"_Perhaps you've overcome your pride...or maybe just gained more along with _your_ one?"_

His one? Huh. That senile fool!

However, all of his speculation could never prepare him for the sight that came to be.

No, it was none of his subjects. Neither was it Balin. The one who came through those doors and was currently standing right in front of the dwarf king was none other than his lawfully wedded spouse.

Thorin sat up straight, tilting his head in confusion as a reactionary frown appeared on his forehead.

"Yes?"

Thranduil blinked a few times—quite opposite of his regal and confident nature—as he spoke rather _shyly_, "I understand that you have exported some of your finest medicine to Mirkwood. I personally wanted to inform you of how well they worked. Thank you, king under the mountain. My son fares better."

Thranduil nodded in gratitude and Thorin could do nothing but stare at the pristine being with fluster.

"I—glad to hear it, Elf." He replied, trying to put on his normal tone but failing nonetheless. The elf maintained his distance, yes. But even from where he stood, Thorin _felt _the other's scent all around him. He quickly looked away and pretended to read one of those laid out documents.

"May I inquire," he heard Thranduil speak, "How you came to know?"

Thorin stayed silent for a while, _still _staring intently at the scroll before he gave in. He shuffled around and produced a letter— another letter with the seal of Mirkwood— and looked back at the other with a knowing expression.

"I found it lying on the chair the other day. I took the liberty of reading it, seeing as the seal was already broken. That is how I came to know."

He could see Thranduil trying his best to fight down _something _while trying hard to maintain eye contact with the other. "I thank you for your assistance."

"You needed it." Thorin responded in a neutral tone. However, even though his tone sounded deceptive, a strange pressure began building up in his chest. He suddenly found it too hard to look at the other and just as the dull documents looked very interesting, his cheeks and ears _burned _with an uncomfortable sensation, deeming it hard to maintain his cool.

When the sensation dimmed by a respectable fraction, he looked up at the elf and noticed the other too shuffling a little in place. And as their eyes met, just as quickly Thranduil looked away before bringing his gaze to meet that of Thorin's.

"I uh..."

Thorin started but was quickly cut off by something which Thranduil said at the exact same moment. When it was clear that none knew what to say, Thranduil politely bowed and went his own way.

And when he looked back just for a second, catching Thorin's eyes, the dwarf king could swear. The strange pressure was back in his chest. _Again._

_I must certainly be losing my mind. _Mahal _help me!_

* * *

**AN:** Yes, I find Balin to be that cheeky old timer. I actually can imagine him doing that with a super secret letter that might be the solution to EVERYTHING! Or even eavesdrop during lovers' spats! XD He's just too cute.

I look forward to your feedbacks. Please review!

Balin: Or I might stand outside your room late at night! ;)


	10. Chapter 10

**The Investment**

**Disclaimer: **'The Hobbit' is the property of J.R.R Tolkien and the movies have been made by Peter Jackson. Ergo, they are not mine. :'(

**Edited AN: **Right, so the second time around- I wrote fluff for this chapter. Then I changed my mind and (this is so embarrassing) forgot to edit the note. Thanks to **Achromos** for pointing it out...

Anyway, the final version of chapter 10 promises to show emotional upheavals, angst, more angst.

Thank you everyone who've reviewed/followed/faved. It is tremendously encouraging for me.

* * *

**Chapter 10**

_The horrid creatures were fewer in number but their dreadfully bulky size and equally expandable community made up for it in more ways than one. Legolas found himself staring up at one that paced slowly towards him. Its eyes glinted— like a joyous being that had seen food after months of starvation. _

_Legolas' hold on his bow tightened, one arm readily touching the tip of an arrow. Should the need arise, he'd count on his swift reflexes and deadly aim. The creature didn't feel threatened, however. _

_One by one its hairy legs approached towards the elf. The more it stepped ahead, the more Legolas found himself backing towards a solid rock face. _

_It was then the idea hit him. That spawn of evil was blocking him! One, two, three, four...the paces grew and the distance between him and the rock face shortened. _

_...Eight, nine..._

_Legolas gritted his teeth, drawing one arrow and setting his aim. He tried acrobatically flipping over the spider. But wait! His legs! Why did they feel so heavy all of a sudden? He tried again but the ground seemed to hold him tight!_

_Desperate, he shot an arrow but the spider broke it using its fangs. He shot another and another and another but all had the same fate as the first one!_

_Suddenly a blasting pain shot up his legs. It seared and throbbed and stabbed his thigh and the hot pain slowly radiated all over his body._

_The spider's eyes glinted with sadism. It knew feast was just about ready. It placed on foot forward, then the next, then the next..._

_Legolas dropped his bow. His hands couldn't hold it any longer. His whole body ached. It burned and Legolas _wished _that he was dead already. He was in so much pain!_

_Something wet dropped on his face. He managed to look up and froze at what he saw. The spider was now looming over him. Its mouth was already open and saliva dripped from it and onto the elf. Feast was ready!_

_Legolas' breath hitched. His whole body started trembling. He could feel all of his strength leaving him. He was done for. No one could possibly rescue him. No one could possibly ever find him._

_His end was near._

ADA!

Something wet was being patted against his face. Legolas couldn't place what it was but it was cool and it was soothing. A dark haze that had veiled his mind was slowly lifting as he came about. His vision cleared and he saw Galion leaning over him and placing a wet cloth over his forehead.

Legolas moaned as the throbbing in his thighs slowly but surely lessened. His fever had broken a few days ago but the effect of the venom still hadn't worn off completely. He looked around and took in his surroundings. He was back in his room.

A small frown graced him as he was perplexed as to how he got there. He tried remembering. His memory came in bits and pieces as well. All he remembered was fragments of the fight, him getting injured, the sight of their palace gate and then a darkness descending his eyes.

"My prince how do you feel now?" Galion enquired, looking much tensed and seemingly weary.

"I'm better now." He replied softly, his voice raspy from having had very less water.

Galion understood and brought a glass near Legolas' lips and took it away as the elf had finished drinking.

"Galion, where is my father?"

Shouldn't he be informed? If he knew his father— and he did— then he knew it better than anybody else that the elven king would never take it lightly if his son was injured and passed out for...how many days?

Galion didn't make eye contact with him and it made Legolas grow suspicious.

"Galion, where is my father?" He asked again and this time with a bit of authority in his voice.

The other hesitated for a moment before he bit his lips.

"Prince Legolas," he started, his voice lowering a scale, "The king...he..."

* * *

Thorin cursed mentally as he dropped a piece of paper from his chamber table. He waited for a while. Thranduil was in the room and he would do anything to see the dwarf king _kneel. _

He could call for a servant and wait for him to pick it up or he could just not kneel and let it be. However, seeing the childishness in both actions and futile loss of energy, he gave in and bent to pick it up. He let out a huff on bumping against Thranduil who suddenly placed one leg on top of another.

"Look before you act, Elf." He muttered and rolled his eyes while trying to pick up the paper again.

He smiled when it finally came into his reach. Holding it carefully, he straightened himself—

"Damn it!"

-Only to collide with the other's leg yet again.

"What is the matter with you? Can't you see things around you?" It was Thranduil who scoffed, rubbing his sore knee.

"Apparently, that isn't the case with you, now is it?" Thorin grumbled and glared back at the elf who was ready to drill a hole into his head with his own glare.

For a while, things were quite. Thorin reading the document before setting off to court on his favourite chair and Thranduil reading his book on another chair beside him.

Thorin had even grown accustomed to this kind of silence. After a few days, he understood that not always frequent taunting of Thranduil would humble him down. Truth be told— and let it be told in utter secrecy— Thorin was actually being lenient in that approach. He had already obtained what he wanted. Thranduil's compliance.

Even if the elf gave no such hint of him capitulating, Thorin had already won half the battle the moment Thranduil agreed on their faux marriage. Not only that, Thranduil had to treat him as his husband—albeit to outside world—he had to put up the _semblance _of willingness as leaders far and wide would visit their court. He would arrive _following _Thorin's steps; he would have to sit _behind _Thorin as council went on. In many ways, Thranduil gave up his kingship and that was enough injury to his pride.

Thorin could afford to give him a little bit of space now.

Or maybe he had something in place of tea.

Amidst his thoughts, he hadn't noticed that his eyes no longer read the document in hand. Instead, they gazed upon the blonde Sindar with thoughts focused only regarding_ him_.

When the realization crossed his mind, he mentally scoffed himself and turned away, frowning at the paper.

No one would have the skill of telling how much time had passed before Thorin found himself again gazing at the other with the lightest of frowns.

How could it be? How could a creature so... darn _exotic _looking be so harsh? He gazed into Thranduil's downcast eyes. Those eyes...they spoke volumes of wisdom and experience and yet, having lived for thousands and thousands of years, Thranduil's smooth, stretched skin bore no hints of his actual age.

How could that creature be so deceitful? In every possible way?

He came back to reality as the other cast a perplexed stare at him, making Thorin completely off his guard. In his useless attempt, he tried blinking a few times to hide his..._interest _in the weird being.

_Interest? _

Thranduil raised one of his luscious brows and observed Thorin much to the other's discomfort.

"You find something amusing, Elf?" He asked, trying to sound gruff but instead, his voice sounded _boorish._

"Do you?" Thranduil asked back, propping his chiselled cheek against his slender hand. "You seem to be looking at me for quite some time, now."

Thorin held back a sneer. "I marvel at how high you all think of yourselves, when all of you elves look absolutely the same to me!" He responded with vehemence, deepening his frown.

"Oh really?" Thranduil's voice was playful. After so many days, he had been in a talkative mood—_remotely_ talkative, that is. And the last time he played using words in _that _tone was when...

Thorin cleared his throat_._

This was getting rather inconvenient! When did he resort to thinking so much about the damned elf? What_ did _he have as morning tea?

"Which reminds me..." The elf trailed off and Thorin _wished _that Mahal did not play such cruel jokes on him that day. "Why _were _you in Mirkwood?"

The dwarf king looked up, the faintest of tinge colouring his cheeks.

"That shouldn't be your concern." He said, sounding regal _thankfully._

However, it had no effect on Thranduil. He smirked and leaned forward and Mahal be prayed, the blasted scent of juniper and jasmine again invaded Thorin's nostrils.

"Should it be not because it is too unmentionable on your part?" He went on in that sickeningly chiming voice, "Or is it because it is too embarrassing to be left as unmentionable?"

At that, Thorin sneered, trying his best _not _to look away from the other. His pride was in question after all!

"Or maybe because I find it not to concern an elf whose nose need not to peek into every single matter!" He replied, _pride _intact.

However, Thranduil's smirk widened and didn't fade or even had signs of fading. He narrowed his blue eyes and leaned even more towards the dwarf. His golden locks brushed against Thorin's nose and cheeks and the overtly sweet smell _viciously _infiltrated that organ.

"Is it..."

Thorin tried backing away but the damned locks were _never ending_ and soft as silk...

_Wait! What the fu—_

"...Luck? Which unfortunate man would have that kind of fortune to land in his enemy's realm and just in time for said enemy to lay out a proposal? Tell me Thorin Oakenshield. How is it that you are _so _unfortunate?"

His voice was laced with mischief and his eyes sparkled with a light-heartedness that was doubted to be found _ever._

No! Not again! Why was he analysing so much of Thranduil? He picked his cup and smelled it, ignoring the pealing laughter as he did so.

Mahal, what _was _in his tea?

"Well?" Thranduil spoke again, "I await your answer, O king under the mountain. I deserve it."

"You deserve no answer from me, Elf. None that concerns you," came Thorin's steely reply.

"Ah but it _does_ concern me." Thranduil's voice was so unbearable.

And now that he was cornered, he would have to admit...

He muttered something under his breath which even the other's elf ears were unable to catch. Thranduil leaned forward more as a result and smirked, completely ignoring the fact that his lips now ghosted the dwarf's eyebrows.

"Do pardon me?"

There was the blasted smell again. It was a wonder Thorin's nose hadn't fallen off by then!

Oh he was enjoying himself, wasn't he? Thorin's blush grew even deeper as he raised his voice with utter courage and hurt to his ego.

"I said, I WAS LOST!"

He glared at the elf.

Thranduil, on the other hand, still stayed in place. He drew in a small jet of air and remained staring at the king of Erebor. His lips opened slightly at the totally unexpected nature of the reply and before Thorin could say anything further to lessen the _death blow_ to his ego, Thranduil's shoulders started shaking.

A low rumble was heard before it expanded into a full blown fit of laughter as the elf closed his eyes and fell back on his chair while clutching his stomach.

Thorin's embarrassment grew tenfold and he could do nothing than to chide himself mentally and send out steely glares as the other's laughter rippled throughout the room.

"It is not a matter of joke." He said gruffly, upon which, Thranduil laughed harder.

"So that's what it was?" THranduil gasped in between laughter. When it finally subsided down, he threw away the playfulness he had before and looked at Thorin with a sharp glint in his arrogant eyes. "I had to wonder why you would grace me with your unwelcomed presence. I also had to wonder a greater purpose. I was wondering too hard."

Thorin felt a shiver of defensiveness cross over him as he was dared to be made an object of such insult. He evenly met Thranduil's gaze and welcoming his own haughtiness, he responded back spitefully, "Yes, such actions do not suit you! Since when have _you _thought about anything with reason?"

He saw Thranduil's expressions coming to a freeze before they moulded to one of utter displeasure.

"If by thinking with reason implies forcing one to be legally wedded to his enemy— just to have a trophy of his own stubbornness when clearly greater things are in focus— then I am glad not to think with reason. Your _Highness._"

The insult took its toll. It pinched Thorin hard and even hurt him simply for the fact that the rank which was addressed should've been done in absolute submission. Not out of dejection.

Now Thorin could see what his intention was! Not only to taunt Thorin but also to prove to him no matter what the situation would be, Thranduil would always triumph.

It disgusted him to think that a while ago, Thranduil was _using _his own _sexuality _to obtain results.

_No better than a common whore!_

And now he was trying to plant the flag.

Thranduil seemed to notice Thorin's hard outer skin getting crumbled.

"Yes, we elves may look the same to you. It's not every day you come across something other than the hairy ugliness your kind possesses." He pressed on, "Perhaps I was wrong to stop you."

"Stop me?" Thorin asked, voice laced with nothing but loathe for the other.

"From watching." Thranduil said coolly, focusing his icy gaze over the shorter one, his eyes squinting with a cold fire behind them as each and every word was spat out. "I can't deny you of some wishful thinking. After all, it is only _watching _that you'll ever get close enough to do. You'll never _have _me."

It happened _irrefutably _too fast, before either of them could feign any kind of reaction. Thorin's eyes suddenly saw nothing but a white flash and his ears blocked out everything from the outside world. He had no control of his body and no memory of ever lunging forward towards the other.

He was now towering over Thranduil's mouth and one of his hands gripped his inner thigh for support while the other viced the elf's chin and jaws with a captive intent.

"You are lucky if I only constrain myself to _watch, _you sore breed!" He brought his mouth closer and let his lips ghost over Thranduil's who pressed his lips shut and tried shifting his face vainly.

Ignoring the other's elven curses and squirms, Thorin continued with a foreign coldness. "I would not hesitate to _consummate _our contract in the most gruesome ways imaginable, dare you tempt me!"

The immense pleasure he felt was indescribable as he took in the wavering of pride and leverage from the pair of pale blues under him.

The ice in them was melting and a cruel, cold fire started igniting within them as Thranduil refused to be seen in that captive position.

The immense pleasure Thorin felt when he broke Thranduil's illusion of control.

Thranduil's eyes were wide with surprise...or was it shock? His body was rigid and he breathed out fast and frequently.

And if he didn't know any better, Thorin felt this was right. No, not because he was forming any emotional connection but the pristine creature beneath him...that other-worldly being separated by mere inches as Thorin hovered on top of him. The power...it felt so intoxicating.

Thorin was not mesmerised. He was in a hypnotic state, drinking in the lure of dominance he suddenly felt ripping through his body.

His eyes clouded all so suddenly as he was unable to focus on anything except for the elf's tightly clenched lips. His grip on Thranduil's inner thighs tightened and as the elf flinched slightly in pain, Thorin found a low heat settling at the core of his _own _hearth.

It was a sensation, entirely new. Not because he was enchanted by the deceitful beauty Thranduil held, not because he was feeling an upsurge of emotions swelling in his heart...but because...because he _knew _he had the control to do whatever he wanted, whenever he wanted. And the elf begging for submission, begging for him to stop—

The mist in his eyes lifted entirely and Thorin's eyes widened with confusion mixed with his intent to search for validation of his actions.

His face twisted with a myriad of expressions— all bearing disgust and shame and more confusion. His eyes fell on Thranduil's whose face was but a mirror image of his own. The only difference was, the confusion, anger and damaged ego was extremely profound.

After a beat or two, Thorin jerked away from the other. He tried not to frown hard as he thought what must've come over him. That vile elf was bringing out a new side to him and it was a side Thorin never thought he'd see! One which he was scared to see.

Suddenly, he felt his face turn as a sharp sting spread all over his left cheek.

His eyes widened with shock at the unexpected pain and he turned his face to see Thranduil now up from the chair, eyes flashing wildly like a cruel storm while he panted hard, bringing down his arm.

"Never." Thranduil said pointing a finger, a voice screaming bloody murder as he dangerously glared. "Never have the mistake of believing that you could _touch _me without my permission!"

Thranduil sneered but it wasn't as effective as it should've been. The shock took its toll.

When he finally seemed to regain his composure he said, "Here I thought there was more to you Thorin Oakenshield. I was grateful to you for helping my son. I was beginning to think that maybe you weren't completely disdainful! How I wish I wasn't proven wrong today!"

Thorin could say nothing to counter that. What could he say? Even he was unaware of such horrid threats he thought he was incapable of making.

_What is wrong with me?_

"Don't you touch me. Not without my consent! Never without my consent. I am not your victory is beneath even_ you_."

As he shook off the bewildering feeling, Thorin's hurt pride finally took over him. The king's eyes narrowed with dejection at the mere prospect of being slapped by a lowly thing. He held back no amount of anger as he hissed, "There are many things that are beneath me, unlike you. Do not kid yourself by thinking I'll ever do something so discerning. I would never want to be tainted by _tainting _you. Never, in my nightmares!"

"Nightmares?" Thranduil reencountered, "Even if in your wildest and most improbable imagination, you wanted to touch so much as my _hair_...I'll make _sure _that you don't live long enough to satisfyyour sick _fantasies_!"

Having said that, Thranduil marched off bypassing Thorin.

Thorin did not take it well. He was not accustomed for the elf to have the last word. He started trembling in a low rage as shame filled him. He went so far as to threaten the elf with _those _words! He threatened him of _violating _him!

And as if that wasn't enough for him to feel the burn of guilt, Thranduil didn't even hold back jabbing it into his face. He made Thorin out to be a lecher. He would bring it up every now and then and smudge Thorin's character with his lies and deception!

He was no lecher! Thorin Oakenshield was no violator!

It was the_ elf_ whose vile words roused Thorin's anger. It was that Aüle forsaken elf who stirred all those horrid unintentional words within him! It was his _entire_ fault!

He quickly stormed off behind the taller being and before Thranduil could get any further down the corridors, he caught up to him.

Thranduil's eyes hid no surprise as he was grabbed by his wrist and was turned forcefully to face Thorin. He snarled vehemently but Thorin pulled him aside and shoved him roughly.

"Maybe it is _your _fantasy which you speak of, you arrogant fool!" said Thorin in a disgusted voice. "You will do well to remember you are nothing _but_ a simple victory trophy. Considering that, you are treated exceptionally well."

"And considering the circumstances and my position, I am doing well to remember what I do to those who insult me. Consideringthat,_ you_ are treated exceptionally well." Thranduil retorted back, shoving away the dwarf who blocked his way.

He was about to side step his way but Thorin wasn't done. He stepped in front and glared viciously making Thranduil falter, even by a fraction.

"Make me whatever you please." He said in a low rumbling voice. "I could care any less of your opinion but never dare to make the _mistake_ of smearing my character!"

"And yet," came Thranduil's sarcastic reply. "Here we are."

And yet there they were. Thorin under the same roof as Thranduil because of his pride; because of him knowing that it was _his _pride which triumphed. Not Thranduil's. It was _his _pride before which the mighty and exotic Thranduil succumbed.

He felt a cold shudder running up and down his back when his feelings during _that _moment came to mind. Not only his feelings but also his urge to act out on them...they were so uncharacteristically _dark._

Was Balin right? Was he _obsessed _with that abomination?

* * *

**AN: **Phew! I had to rewrite it almost three times. Still think there is room for improvement here. But...I'm putting it in the future scope. This might seem that they're back to square one. But I thought, old habits die hard and old wounds (and fresh ones) take time to heal. Could I have had more fluff in between? Yes, I think so. But...too much fluff would've ruined the whole idea I have.

Feedback? Oh yes please!


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